Beyond

The spirit rises with the full moon,


Adrift among the breathless sitters

Colors of light flash and float

Evoking soft murmurs, silent gasps

She speaks and silence is broken

The candle flickers, sends a puff of smoke

An image clearly forms in the crystal

All eyes trace the outline hoping

For familiarity, someone they know

Bringing that all-comforting message

That there is life beyond the grave.

Coffee Mugs

What does your coffee mug say about you?


Does it have a tongue-in-cheek saying?

A maxim to live by, your motto, cliché?

Does it depict a pastoral place?

A piece of Heaven where you can recharge

As you sip your cup of liquid zip?

Does it feature an icon of your beloved pet?

A doggie, a kitty, Tasmanian Devil?

Or is there a feature from your faith there,

Letting everyone know you take your life in your hands

By braving the grounds of your blended brew?

Is it a statement of the ground you will not cede?

An airplane, a tank, an automatic rifle

Or a rhyme as a reminder of your stalwartness?

Much can be told of the hearts, flowers, bears,

The images and words that reside on your favorite mug

To speak volumes to the world of who we are

Day to day, hour to hour, breath to breath.

Believe

Time rewinds as the living year ends


No need to fear as old and new blends

Remarkable stirrings within the Universe

But messengers come to restore and rehearse

The lines of Creation as all matter exists

Fantastical, imaginative, modern man resists

For in his mind only what he sees is real

Beyond the knowing there is so much more to feel

Nothing ends without yet a new beginning

Preachers cry out to keep common man from sinning

Error thinking blocks the progress of our lives

A great clap of thunder and the citizenry revives

We come to the understanding we must gift to receive

Caring for others, their needs, this you must believe.

A Portrait

There stands a portrait in the East hall


A man, tall, foreboding

My grandfather, I think

And he stares out of the wall

With hollow, black eyes

As if nothing had ever gone his way

And his gray hair feathers in all directions

Beneath a flat cap like drivers wear

Or so it was in the forties.

I don’t remember him

He was gone before I was old enough to talk

But I have heard stories

That he was talented as a musician

And could tune a piano.

I supposed I might have sat on his lap

While he drank coffee between jobs

Or he might have bounced me on his knee.

So much to learn from a portrait.

Music

Notes distilled in a great instrument


And played in ways of incomparable selection

Nothing random, yet intertwined to resemble

A river as it flows and slowly bends

A river of soulful, red wine tastes

Imported from the stars, one might say,

For the arches and crescendos run and pause

In ways that broaden our horizons

And expand our vision, our capacities

To see, to feel, to take comfort and pleasure

When all else falls like a house of cards.

Peace

Exhaustion from the very thought


Of chaos taking hold with its teeth

And shaking like a mad dog

Overcomes the stillness, destroys joy

And the season of love and harmony

Is pushed into a tar pit, blind, burning,

Tears, tears, tears, tears pouring out

Because no one will loose the grip

Of anger, of fear, of misunderstanding.

Opposing forces line up for the battle,

Hostile words and more hostile thoughts

Shattering the precariously perched cruet

That holds the essence of peace.

Mountain Air

A rainbow of petals in all shapes and sizes


Floating alongside a mountain stream

Lupines standing in tall spires of hot pink

Irises in deep purple majesty

Stalks of green boasting heads of golden sunshine

Kaleidoscope changing in the breeze

A delightful dance of fluttering flowers

Inciting my reverie in the mountain air.

Autumn Splendor

A carpet of fire beneath bare maples


Guardians of the country house:

A stucco building with balconies of green

Tucked neatly near the forest’s edge

A memory of hide and seek among the trees

Children’s laughter, feet shuffling through leaves

Playing “Romeo and Juliet” with cousins

Singing in rounds of Row, Row, Row Your Boat

Watching squirrels collect their treasures

Catching grasshoppers in the tall grass

Warming up in front of the fireplace

With a mug of hot cocoa steaming

Grandma telling a story from days gone by

Autumn splendor for a holiday.

Forest Floor

This is below, a tunnel into fantasy


A land within the roots of reality

Beneath the trees, beneath the soil

Enchanted by the wee folk all

With vibrant green, moss and soil

Creatures that above the ground annoy

Though here they rule and give direction

Where no light sheds insight, haven,

But here, there is harmony, insulation,

From the tension, from the rat race

From the foolhardy neediness of above.

All is provided here, the nurturing,

The blessings of peace beneath the forest floor.

Aged

The aged man sits, contemplating eddies


That spiral at the river’s edge

His long beard cascading about his knees,

As he rests and reaches down

Juggling the stones about his toes.

He has been here before.

He will come here again

To sit, to think, to reflect

Upon younger days, decisions made,

Thoughts that have wandered through his mind

On cold days when he was busy

Challenging life to a duel.

But now, life nearly over for him,

His thoughts are on the next world

And what paths to travel once there.

Waiting for Tires

A slow leak made my tire low


So in to the gomeria I went

I told the clerk my problem

And I gave him my set of keys

The red seats were barely full

I wouldn’t have long to wait I thought.

But one by one each of the seats filled

Lots of people buying tires before first snow.

I looked around at each stern face

Some talking to a neighbor,

Some tilting heads, evaluating the tires on display.

At length I pulled out my phone

To play Free Cell and pass the time

The room became strangely quiet

I thought I was in another world

People came and went, clerks calling a name

When their new tires were ready to test.

Twenty rounds of Free Cell I had played

And my name was called from behind a stack of tires.

Good! I could go home and have supper.

Love

Elevation to the highest height


Humility to the smallest low

The merry-go-round expresses these

Though we may never accept it so.

But opening the heart, vulnerable,

You can’t be certain the opportunist

Won’t stomp you into dust, cinders,

Though you gain little to show a fist.

Giving, caring, sharing, the sages teach

Trusting in the Higher Power we beseech

The Light, come the flood waters or sun

Trust and goodness within our reach.

An arrow of intention we send above

Branded in the Master’s name: Love.

Eyes Closed

I walk a path that exists only in my mind


A place of calm and quiet and serenity

Where I have the truest friends

The timeworn spirits always near.

We walk and talk and sing the day away

Visiting those who have gone on

And trusting that the springtime will bring

Renewal to our hearts and souls.

We wade through turquoise waters

We beat back jungle brush

We climb unscalable rock faces

And sit atop the mountain in campfire light

Telling stories, sharing laughter

Listening to the wild sounds of the earth

The crickets, the coyotes, bears and beavers

Creatures of the night keeping the balance

All the while my eyes are closed.

Pause

The cosmos holds a breath in


The thought of you takes form

From random atoms circling

To substance soft and warm

Years down the path’s trajectory

We’re destined to become

Legendary icons of love

If strings of time and space strum

At the moment when fate and faith

Merge and elegantly fold

Together, as if our hands meet

In synchronicity, I’m told.

The crystal balls, the scrying mirrors

Each form of divination

Speaks the promise for our future:

All passion and elation.

But for now, I wait, I pause, I watch

Alert to telltale signs, will do

Managing my days of quiet

Until the Universe brings me you.

Bubbles of Colors

The rain comes down, it forms a mist


And it makes it look like the trees are cryin’

But I just know it’s heaven’s way

Of washin’ all of creation and it taps its toe

To the beat of the best nature sounds

So I stand with the drizzle drippin’ off my nose

And my hair gets all fuzzy, but I think it’s funny

So I end up laughing at the rows of umbrellas

Open and bobbing like bubbles of colors

Yeah, I end up laughing at bubbles of colors.

Eagle Sunset

Whisper soft, with wings outstretched

In the crouching darkness of early eve

A shadow puppet tree bends low in tribute

The remaining red ball of the sun diving

Down behind the earth’s round horizon

Flashes of orange trail behind it

On puffs of clouds, here and there.

He searches for a stray rabbit or mouse

And leaves no mark of his own on the sky.

Tomorrow

Sand’s blown over the road


Though the wind is calm

And the big lake sparkles

In that diamond-covered dress kind of way

Ending in little white caps

Just as it meets the sand

And the broad beach is devoid of people

Though there are cars here in the lot.

A father with an Australian accent

Calls to his children to get back in the car

On the promise that they’ll spend a longer time

Tomorrow.

One Will

Threads come together now


Wrapping gently, one around another,

Meeting the hallowed mind still

Waxing equally with balance

And while most try to become a circle,

A wreath of colors, scents, flowers,

Put together like a crown of laurel

Stating we work together, think together,

Fit together with locked hands

Safe, certain, dedicated to one will.

Goodwill For All

Picture perfect is my village


The private place I go for respite

Friendly passersby shake my hands

And ladies curtsy along their way.

A lovely park is home to the brook

A tiny footbridge crosses over it

A bright, white gazebo offers a seat

Where loved ones pass the time

Birds call and sing and flutter about

The businesses of the town down the hill

Markets for the farmers, a shop for the milliner,

Candies at the sweet shop, a blacksmith for ironworks,

A lumberyard, a printer, a feed store and a mill,

Everyone in keeping with harmony

Relaxation and goodwill for all.

Balanced

Reaching deep into the darkness


For the answers waiting there

Colors floating from Creation

Ribbons of clouds in the air

Amid heartbeats throbbing wildly

Bated breath and bitten tongue

Ancient lessons scaling mountains

This is not meant for the young

Though the wise as well take caution

For the treacherous slopes above

For a writhing snake of passion

Would be premature to call it love

So the sages’ steps go gingerly

Using inner sight alone

And the pretense of protection

Of the world’s a balanced stone.

Celestial Chorus

Lights that strengthen our resolve


To grow, to fellowship entwine

Rejoicing in the seaward cast

Not lost in tangled webs of thought

But with a higher goal in mind

To honor, protect and balance good

And climb the ladder row by row.

For should the branches bar the way

A pause, a prayer, to clarify

Then fight the battle effortlessly

And sing the hymns indefinitely.

Arise then, tread the path of one by one

Praise the rainbow of culminating form

In earthly imaginings all becomes clear

Up we march, in celestial chorus.

Sweet September Rain

I am walking toward the garden


And the cold beads tap my skin

So alive, I feel excited

As a drop strikes on my chin

I’m walking in the sweet September rain

It nearly floats down from the sky

The day is warm, the rain is cold

But the chill just makes me high

I see so clearly through the slow

Falling drops that resurrect me

And I’m happy I’m alive.

The green of leaves and grass don’t pass

Without my notice in the sweet September rain.

To Be

Messages


Not cast in either stone or jello

But words that cut to the core

Of the meaning of life

So still, so pure

That only the initiated can see

Only the wise and ancient can hear

And the great, the grand design

Lifts light from the shadows

Becoming whole for all to see

For we are truly one, you and I,

And the imagination walks, foolhardy,

Toward the divine calling

Where all will be as it is meant to be.

End of Summer

The end of summer now arrives


As children back to school swarm

Football, academics fill their lives

Shorter days no longer warm.

The sky so blue, low humidity,

We breathe easier, walk in step,

The trees will soon color in rapidity,

Band members toot, hoot, and beat with pep.

School spirit, the cheerleaders shout,

Colors raised, waved and worn,

Happy friends amazed at all they’re about

After the game the goalpost is torn.

In-crowds, shy ones, geeks all reign

When school resumes, the uglies abstain.

No Longer Lame

Walking along the railroad tracks

Each tie a step into nowhere
They reach far into the horizon
Even unto the setting sun.
The trees whisper to each other
A language I can only hear
Desperation, inspiration, reflection
Only knowing life for what it lacks.
How I wish for purpose, pleasure,
How I feel broken, abused,
Shattered glass longing for integration
No longer the tried and true,
Letting go, no one is amused.
Memories on a merry-go-round
The ups and downs personified
Which one has a ticket to ride
The rest will watch and hide.
We know the game, we look the same
And now our fervent hearts we tame,
To heal, to be whole, no longer lame.

Threads

Weaving threads of stories told
Ferris wheels all lined with gold
Heraldry as times of old
Woodland creatures in the fold.
The Horned God plays his pan flute
The dryads’ dance is resolute
With steps that call the lambs cute
And chase the rain down waterfall’s chute.
Pagan circles claim the holy ground
In which Tuatha de Danaan are found
Flittering, flying, floating around.
We dare not breathe, not to make a sound.
The aged forests, glens and vales
Are alive once again as the moon pales.

In the World

I hear the echoes in my mind
The voices cheer and jeer and call to me
From little ones who cannot speak
To those too old and tired and weak
And we reach out together holding hands
And the world is our garden growing green.
Today may we take a step for freedom
Tomorrow we may finally find our voice
And then perhaps we’ll walk
Soon enough we’ll even talk—to each other! Yes!
The sun will come arising o’er the lake
Our hearts so filled with love, but they won’t break
We are united in our love
For our sisters and our brothers
In the world!

Little Hands

My hands are small, this I know, God,

My heart is filled with enough love
To help those who have lost their way
A sign from you, the feather of a dove,
Would show me that your strength
Your guidance and your grace is behind me
Whatever difficulties fall to block my path
So I ask, Dear God, that you work with me
To clear away the boulders, as well as the chaff,
That with my pockets that aren’t so deep
And my mind, as I tend to weep
My stress and distress as I lose my sleep
That you would be the force to carry me through
As I know I do not heal, it is all You.

Science In Our Time

The things we learn from science
When we add up all the figures
Helps to understand how fragile
Are the bits and bobbles that comprise us
Yet when we hear of phantom limbs
Of pain in something that’s not even there
It surely does surprise us.
But the miracles is, once they know
That something’s broken deep inside
They can do the miraculous things
We used to think were acts of God
But now our scientists can fix it.
Though you never know who steadies the hand,
Who gives the eyes a brighter gleam,
To tell what tissue’s done its job
What clot of blood now blocks the way
I like to think the Holy Spirit guides
Through quiet power
And let’s man know in subtle ways
What genius lasts the hour.

Private Place

My feet sweep along the stone path
That leads to my private place
A pond, so clears, so silvery,
It beckons me to come, to look
And as I make my way through the palm fronds
I breathe in the essence of renewal, rebirth
Then I kneel at the edge of the water
And catch a glimpse of the full moon
As she hovers overhead, gifting her sparkling image
In the pond’s face along with mine.
I can see beyond the moment,
I can see beyond the now, the yesterday
And the answers I seek play out
Like a movie of truth, bringing me wisdom
Bringing me knowledge and understanding
Bringing me to a place of harmony with the Mother.

The Wheel

It rains upon my nose
And my shoulders all the day
Though I walk the empty streets
In my wet and soggy clothes
The tap-a-tap-tap on the sidewalk
Lets me feel that friends are near
Their voices echo in my mind
The mirror image of our talk
Shines behind me like my dreams
And I cannot comprehend
That they’re no longer there,
Why change befalls me, yet it seems
That what I want I cannot have
Though the flowers on my path
Bloom in colors bright and sure
The pictures from my past, a salve
That soothes the loneliness I feel
Choices made to just survive
Kept me from the truth of us
And the spinning of the wheel.
So I’m hollow deep inside
The words play o’er and o’er again
Yet the rain washes off the pain
And the truths in me abide.

A Single Rose

A single row of simple roses
Waft their scent through visions clear
Symbol of the love of man as he proposes
Bringing heaven to earth and lingering here.
Gentle as the blue in the sky come spring
Yet powerful as the warrior’s blood is red
A rose kindles love more than anything
And holds more truth, whatever is said.
Like the comet that races through darkness
The rose creates a stir in the hearts of all
Touched to the lips with essential finesse
An outpouring of the one’s heart, you hear the call.
Love, you are the magnanimous giver of Light
Between two who are forever precious in the other’s sight.

Hope

In boxes stacked one atop another
In darkening closets where stories are kept
The secrets we keep from one another
Are the stories that play in the mind as we slept.
And so the sweet dreams roll like videotape
Where imagination lures the strong and the weak
The antagonist rolls his moustache and swings his cape
While Cupid flies above on tiny wings. We seek
The bright and beautiful solution of all that dismays,
Our rolling thunder is siphoned into tomorrow
Yet we celebrate what become our happiest days
Hoping that we shall never revisit our sorrow.
Come lightly then, with the most generous hope
And waken to your new life as your sweet eyes ope’.

Family as Friends

Friends hold hands through good, through bad,
The evil in the world is offset, thus,
And those who will stand shoulder to shoulder
Rise above the trifles and the pain
That darkens the doors of all we hold dear
Making our lives less than we hope for.
Though with our friends beside us
We climb up from the pit to stand in the sunlight
Making a life that is better than what we had
And we can rejoice to have those we love with us
We can step forward, our hearts beating bolder
The past no longer marking us with a stain
And our sense of humanity grows year by year
Yet, we count our blessings without keeping score
With cheer and joy we do what we must
Our friends held dear in our heart as we say, “goodnight.”

Forever Free

It sparkles from the darkest corner
Where words cannot be found within
And no light brings imagination to bear
Yet you know, it is there. It is there.
So you stumble on, step by halting step
Thinking that soon the shackles will fall
Hoping that the mire of the mind releases
The magic at the intersection of inspiration
And that feeling of falsehood, your foe.
And then, like a lamp with its flame flickering
You realize that your eyes have been closed
That you were lost in a slumber, snoozing,
And now, the flame becomes a fire, for
You must write, you must share
You must take flight to give your heart’s desire
Life upon the plain page, forever free.

Summer Heat

Wilting grass and flowers sag
Summer sun beats down
As flies buzz so fast past your nose
And shade trees barely make a difference
Because there is no breathing in this
But one must hide inside
With the protection of roof and walls
Along with the perpetual churning
Of the air conditioner in each room
And a tall glass of iced green tea and lemon.

By the Docks

The lake is glass this morning
And the sailboats attest to this
Rising as far above the water
As their reflections shimmer below.
And the ducks and their children
Cut wedges in the water swiftly
As gulls fly overhead and out of sight
And a proud father swan returns
From his morning adventures
While his mistress and younglings
Sleep at the edge of an ancient piling:
Leftovers from a dock of lumbering days,
Making a nest for the images of the trees
That haunt the water in between.
The open water sports a layer of steam
To the untrained eye
And white-bellied catfish
Jumps at bugs above the water.
Pristine in its beauty
As the blue sky leaves its impression
Over all.

Unfolding

Your walk has had its ups and downs
Decisions seem to be confoundin
All the things you thought you knew
Melt away like the morning mist
You wonder what the Divine Plan says
What are you meant to be doing with your life
And the simple answer is
You are where you’re meant to be
You are who you’re meant to be
All the twists and turns have been lessons
The choices you’ve made have been victories
You’ve not taken wrong steps
You’ve not made the wrong turn
You are the unfolding of a beautiful soul
All the restlessness is a reminder
To keep moving along, wade in the stream
You are who you are, who you’re meant to be
As the race slowly unfolds, so you’ll see.

Everyman

Somewhere in the middle of green
When the lights say, “go” and your thoughts
Say, “yes, now is the time,”
We embrace the attitude of perfect pitch
Where the melody undeniably falters
Because the ego remains so upright
And we just can’t quit or let go
Of our moment of destiny, greatness,
Long enough to accept that we are only one soul
In a line of millions trudging out our destiny
Then it suddenly dawns upon us
That we are no greater, nor any less,
Than all the others in the line
And we suppose life no longer matters
But I say this: it matters more!
Because now, instead of pleasing an audience,
We have only ourselves to please.

Bee the Change

The challenge, if you understand my meaning,
Is to support all life, because we
Have endangered it through our greed
And I hear you say, “What’s the loss of a few
Small bugs that sting you anyway?”
But you forget they create our good
They are from the Land of Milk and Honey
They create the sweet life for us
They are the base of our house of cards
Do you see it? Can you know it?
Once they are gone, we all fall down.
So get on the bandwagon, my friend!
Bee the change! Don’t let the poison factories
Force the farmers into the murder of our lives
.Get in line! Get healthy! Bee the change!

Archipelago

The archipelago stretches from here to there
The waves swallow them in intervals
The wind wraps a breathy snake around
As it knits them together
One by one, like the spine of a great leviathan
They arch out of the ocean as if
Giving homage to the sun.

Compassion

Delicately put, each person is responsible
For conquering his limits, for accepting
Whatever good can come of a life
For focusing not on what is in his life
Rather, bringing a bright note
Into the tunes of life around him.
For when someone is melancholy
It behooves us to become his umbrella
Just as others create sunshine for us,
Together, we walk forward, secure, confident,
Because the Creator has been there for us.

Whistle

I can whistle when the sun comes up
And touch each vibrant ray
I can blink away the brightness then
I know I’m here to stay
For my story is a monument
To those I love so dear
I shall ne’er forsake my loved ones
Even when I shed a tear.
The night is over, over,
Our hands clasp tight in honor
And we have survived the eagle’s flight
Our steps move one by one
We shall share the ring of voices, yes,
The light of love comes back
Our fight is done.

Grand Design

Holy relics, markers in space and time
By which we catalogue life and lives
History some call it, other the future
The grand design divided by the union
Of harmony as it reflects great joy
Of peace, where all ‘waken in serenity
Of giving, so all needs are met
Each person takes steps at his own rate
But sooner or later, all will have to agree
Or be forfeit once the grand design reigns free.

Pioneers

The finite line from A to B
Is outside the box if we can see
The ‘luminating rhythm
Beside each vision truly shown
Where the fantasy degrades into the sultry
Tangles and thorns along one’s journey
Rubbing blisters and creating vacant looks
That twist and turn into the rubble
Of a cabin long forgotten in place and upkeep
Until we finally ask, “Where?”
Followed by raucous laughter that stings
The sense of dignity belonging to the pioneers.

Puzzle

Puzzle pieces drop into place
Where the path leads to open space
Comforting the heart is in God’s grace
And taking steps forward, lives interlace.
We met, we know each other well
And so the stroll we can tell
Is one that easily unfolds as it fell
Across our minds, beliefs as they swell.
Corazon, you strike blows in the deep
Seated memory where heart resides to sweep
The furrowed brow, the fantasies in our sleep
As we lie down, our souls to keep.
Carry us onward, let the path absorb the sun
Rays shine and lift our hearts before day is done.

Spring 2012

What blossoms in the pure spring air
And lightens the heart in easy breath
The song of cardinals ripe in dating form
Delightfully dances among the leafy branches.
And so it is that life in springtime thus renews
The world awakens in its verdant splendor
All the sights and songs of spring
Purely granted with such devotion.

Unicorn

I saw the breath of a unicorn
Rise up from ‘neath the waves
Crystal bubbles of colored light
Popping with a ping as they met the air
And how I knew their beloved source
Was swimming in the sea
The top of its snow white horn, of course,
Bobbed up and down, you see.
The sun was just inclining in height
The clouds were all going their way
And as the mist rose from the sea
I watched to catch a glimpse of it:
The myth-maker revealed in the Bible.
And soon enough, it pranced proud
To the waters edge among the gallant curls
Of sleepy waves, a string of sea shells
And starfish sported about its neck.
It shook away the water from its satin coat
Prismic dots of rainbows bright
Then as the droplets and the mist
It, too, faded from my sight.
Was it real or an image of hope
Drawn on a message from long ago?
I know that I saw it in faith and fate.
God’s will, my joy, the world’s recreation.

Spring Storm

The sky clears its mighty throat
And rolls its intentions outward
As flashes of silver veins spread
Through the soft underbelly.
Tears of the goddesses flow, caressing the land
With heaven’s wealth and goodness.
The sky spreads and all humans hear
As it moves across the face of the earth
The land, the sea, refreshed, delighted
To open its eyes and give bounty
Of its greenery, its life, all things new
That walk or fly or sprout from the ground
Serving our senses, our needs, our good.

Fruits

Feelings flutter in unlikely waves
The end is seen in the beginning
And however hope is begged to come upon the scene
The fruits of our labors rack stalwartly on.
A deep breath and turning the back away
Drives the passion firmly as a nail
Into hard oak boards because no one listens.
If we suppose that good always begets good,
Perhaps we are encouraged to try harder
But the likelihood is that the lid is dropped on our fingers
And no one, not one person, sees the truth
Or values who we are and what we do.
So we step cautiously, looking both ways
And recant our promises to take the bad to heart
Because we are better than that and we know it.

Salvation

We suppose that we are the wise ones
Who have walked this path this many years
But the eyes of the infant who looks and sees
Without discourse and commentary
Accepting without judgment both good and bad
Offering trust and warmth is no less divine
Than the source from which it came
And we would do well to emulate
The honesty and innocence to achieve
The full salvation of our lives.

Changes

There are changes in sight if you look now
The moss grows on the North side of the Oak
Take your cue from Mother Nature who’s got a new spin
Will the world wobble, wobble again.
Yes the people have begun to speak their minds
And the unborn have voices too
If the birds and the bees are vanishing please
Will you turn things around before the end.
Come take what is given and never look back
The great bears have a home in the ice
Well tomorrow the tiny things all will be gone
Do you see it yet, a drowning so fast.
The sun grows hotter with each passing day
And more people regard it with joy
But the gardens are parched and the water is starched
What do we leave our grandchildren to?
If we step toward the green of the forest
And there’s nothing left living inside
We forgot to make changes in time as it were
Are we next to be on the decline?

Tears

A tear rests at the corner of the eye
To softly say, “I’m proud of you.”
It’s there as well in jubilation
For each attempt to raise the bar.
It will be there for skinned knees, too,
And even more so for those times
When I can’t be there to watch,
To comfort, to protect, to honor, to share
And I will feel the less because of it
And there will be lots of tears then.
You will have them, too, as you learn and grow
I will dry as many as I can,
But I will understand when you must have silence
If you must work through your troubles on your own.
I will sit, fidgeting, waiting for the phone to ring
Hoping for your call, to say, “I’m okay.”
And then a tear will form in the corner of my eye
As I marvel at your strength and nod, “I know.”

In Ink

I am but a point of light, a spark
That soon becomes a flick’ring flame
As the image from a dream is bursting
Forth from deep within my soul
And the words begin to overflow my cup
Pictures in the mind becoming more
Than formless clay or shards of stone
And I begin to see the sword float
Up, out of the mist and skyward
As grace alights upon my shoulders
The knight of creativity finding its berth
Within my mind, each word a landscape,
The scent of mystery, serene velvet soothing
Each blessing in my imagination, a total grasp
Of whispers relayed in rolling ink.

The Who

In dreams we hear the echoes
Of long-forgotten wishes
Spoken over birthday candles
When there were but a few
And somewhere we found our limits
And told ourselves we needed more
Until we stole the twisted life
From our earliest imaginings
So we could walk the social plank
So we could keep up with the neighbors
So we were success, self-sufficient,
Some robotic appendage of a corporation
Dressed as prescribed, crunching data,
Until we desire our own identity:
Comfort, primal screams, a lantern
That illuminates what hides in that cave
At the back of our subconscious,
The who, the what we wanted to be.

Chakra Joy

Soft petals of inward energy rise
Opening the life force, lifting heat
And balancing the right and the left
Ease and release, tension is no more,
Blockage is no more, illness is no more.
Energy rises with tiny footsteps
With each breath, like fingers walking
Up the spine, through each vital organ
Purifying, cleansing, flushing toxins
Delivering harmony and delight in the self.

You Miracle You

I don’t know if I beheld the miracle
That you are the day of your birth*
Or if it took your first steps
To let me know how special that you are
I only know you are a gift to the whole world
Your precious heart recalls an angel.
And I want the best in all you do
Sing and dance, rise and shine, dream….
Let the glory in the heavens fill you up
And cheer your soul, may you smile
Each day the sunrise wakes you up.

*This poem is dedicated to my amazing children.

Sunshine

A spot of sunshine is just the place
For a kitten to curl up and snooze
As if all that matters is the dream
That goes ‘round his young mind
And the heroic fantasy of banishing mice
As he licks his paws before he pauses
To lean his head back and stretch
Absorbing the warmth and comfort of the sun.

Anticipation

Red buds have popped out
On all the trees except the pines
Just waiting to explode
Like so many green fireworks
That will shade the garden
From the bright, summer sun
As we sit in the lawn swing
Sipping our lemonade.

The Diligent Gardener

The green comes from beneath brown leaves
As my neighbor rakes his yard
His satisfaction all over his face
Because he takes pride in his lawn
And he stops a moment to wipe away sweat
From his brow and look up at the blue sky
Then goes back to his raking, stroke after stroke,
Ever the diligent gardener minding his duty,
And I think one of these days I should do likewise
To tidy my yard though I haven’t the energy
To be so persistent and exacting as my neighbor.

The Walker

Bold strides he takes forward
A bright pink crocheted cap
Warming his head on top,
Whiskers on his chin
Black tights and knee length camouflage pants
Suggest perhaps he has little to spare
But he fuels his fire with a lit cigarette
Puffing with purpose as he goes
Down the sidewalk with a purpose
And before long is gone from sight.

Fog Today

Before you can blink it grows
And spreads to encircle you
Thick, then thicker, dulling sound
So that cars going by
And children playing across the street
Even barking dogs next door
Make no noise that might alert you
That the fog is rolling off the lake
Like smoke from bonfires set
In a huge circle around town
Only without the fear, no sirens,
Little change in daily routine
And no sooty smell, but mist.

Winter Still

There are still a few days of winter
But as I drive past the big lake
The water is open and rippling
With no sign of ice except at the foot
Of the red lighthouse at the end of the channel
So much the same as for the rest of winter
This year as much an advertisement
Against global warming, be it ever hospitable
To me, though I’m sad for the polar bears
But isn’t this what our world is about?
To adapt, to move, to change, to renew?
Not so easy for those who must change
Darwin claimed survival for the fittest.
But in the interim, I shall enjoy this warmth
And play in the sunshine, smile in blue skies
And watch a million diamonds sparkle
On the surface of Lake Michigan.

Orion

I look up at the sky and I see Orion
And I try to remember what I have to do
Because there are ages to be recalled
There are tasks meant to be completed
Yet my mind will not recall it, so I watch
And I think there is a movement in the sky
When searchlights will find the blessed ones
Perhaps they will come here, too, after us.
To remind us or awaken us, or help us
To know and to remember the divine purpose
For which we have lived so many lives
For which we have endured the growth, the ages,
On this remote planet of blue where no one
Understands the messages of sound and light
That pass through the atmosphere
From our homeland, from our green hills,
From that beloved place, Orion.

Natural World

The natural world, it is the sun
That breaks over the horizon
And calls out to all things that breathe
To awaken, to rise, to live
So we open our eyes and accept
The gift of light to spur ourselves
Through the air, along a path of green
Where flowers guide our good and perfect steps
And butterflies like honey, and ants
That carry worlds on their shoulders
Make sounds indistinguishable from touch
Yet we take our vision through each day
Until the sky is dappled with stars
And the cold air of winter chills our lungs
So we can wait and watch for spring
When the natural world awakens once again.

Fitful Muse

My words are pale like ghostly visions on the page
Mere simple expressions that cannot raise a fist
To fight for a right and a reason to their place
And all meaning drains from them like a grape’s life blood
But the piquant juice is nowhere to be found
And the color of remorse at not bearing fruit
Resides in my stomach, twisting and churning
In a darkness not unlike the cloudy night sky
Where moon nor stars cut through the binding.
Were it not for fabled spirits blessing my sight
At the hours when estranged sleep begs rest
The pages of my journal would remain blank
And my bed tossed about by a tempest.

Infinity

Back to back the moments call
From whence we came upon the fall
Of angels desperately singing and clinging
To the hierarchy above the wall.
And so our vision of perfect protection
Stands up and salutes at attention
From here to there through the eye of the eye
So that all of earth experiences retention.
We are saved, we are enlightened,
We are blessed, we are not frightened.
Our gifts we accept as our aeons are renewed.
This day our harmony is granted—there is no end.

Polar Bears

Cold that warrants sweaters and blankets
As the breath can be seen indoors
The gas bill is too high for comfort’s sake
And what they say about ecology hits home
So we endure in the interest of polar bears
Who cling to tiny ice floes in the arctic
And we pray that its enough for them
That the species will go on forever.

Elemental Beings

Elemental beings may beyond our ken reside
Though little things they be to keep little things inside
And typically our grass is green our flowers lovely grow
With form and colors of the rainbow sweet, you know.
Supposing then you’d like to have a chat with some of them
And set you out a bowl of cream or a fine wine in a glass stem
Then quietly wait in candlelight for them to join and sit
In a simple ring around you as many as will fit.
You ask them how they pass their days, “working,” they reply,
“To make the world more beautiful,” says the butterfly.
Though creatures wee and quiet, they’ve such a lot to do
And must get back unto it—haven’t long to talk to you.
They carry raindrops, pass the pollen, glitter in the sun,
And though their buzz is all about work, they’re surely having fun.
Mother Nature’s tiny folk, they turn and churn and chew
How lucky you are if they take the time to come and sit by you.

Minstrel

In words of rhyme and fancy
Strumming from strings of six
The minstrel tells his story
Love, life and fellowship.
Around the fire or at the table
Good friends, good food, good wine,
There’s never an end to the cheer
But there’s always room for one more chair.
And when the merriment is over
A good night’s sleep and a meal
Off he goes to the next village
The next heart, the next soul
To entertain, sing a song, tell a story
Bringing news to those who toil
Bringing laughter to those who fret
Bringing friendship and joy to the lonely.
He shall pass this way again, he says,
We’ll wait ‘til the day comes for sure.
Our hearts are lighter for having known him.
A miracle: his life, our love, God’s peace.

Fleeting

What comes in fleeting moments
In the whispers of the night
Are the messages from rumors sent
By creatures’ flurried flight.
We listen to the stilted rhyme
To give it tender sense and style
But never underestimate the time
For angels watch us for awhile
To see if we indifferent are
To the wretched plight of lost and poor
Aeons mark the day, the hour
Within our dreams of blessed lore
And we shall cast our grace unto the star
Hoping to retrieve what has been gone so far.

Train

The train cruises at 80
While the conductors report their positions
And the passengers busy
Themselves with reading and music
And private conversation
And sooner or later the young will become restless
And the students will power up their computers intermittently with text messages from their peers
whom they will see in just a few hours
And I observe them and send out protective meditations
so that safety will reign—
Friend, acquaintance, strangers alike.

New Creation

Speeding toward Earth with a vengeance untold
The hollow fire and ice in premonitions unfold
Where in the galaxy and when, be so bold
To draw power and profit as centuries unmold.
The stories of collapse and calamity wherein
Humankind fails to recognize its limitations therein
Where all people are fed and clothed, safe from sin
Of the faceless, nameless hordes’ earsplitting din.
The desire to take what cannot be theirs today or ever
If we are to survive and come to balance forever
It must be told, it must be known now or never
For the ball comes when it will, we cannot pull the lever.
Let there be fear in our hearts, seek out salvation
And two moons will be the result of the new creation.

Patchwork

A partial blue sky is better
Than no blue sky at all
We can see the dark clouds of snow
And the white clouds of cotton
Hanging peaceably there
And its little more than an inconvenience
To have a patchwork in the sky
For sometimes the sun is covered
And sometimes not.

Above

Those we’ve loved, passing through the screen
Take our hearts along to keep them warm
Our memories serve well to show where they’ve been
Our tongues well healed to keep them from harm.
And yet, in all this, we shed our tears
Because our lives are somehow less full
Or fruitful with them gone, in spite of the years,
And so we review photos, track dates, feel the pull
To draw our loved ones closer until
Our own time comes to say our goodbyes
Then we wonder if we shall be remembered still
And we go our own way and softly close our eyes
Ready to move on, watching each beloved one
From a balcony up above in the Central Sun.

From Loss to Love

How profound the beauty in the human soul
Where daybreak brings the bright blue sky
And all tremulous worries fade in that moment
Because the light signals rebirth
And all of heaven starts anew
Gifts are granted to the open-hearted
As well to the open-minded who spring aloft
And all who rise with the dew
Have instilled harmony in the deepest measure
Where light resolves each worry, each challenge,
Dissolving them away as they rise closer,
Closer to the Source of all good, all blessings
Where there can be no conflict, no anger
But resilience to take on the shifts
From want to plenty, from sadness to joy,
From doubt to possibility and from loss to love.

Naked Tree

A naked tree is ugly
In its segmented limbs
Its towering branches that have no order
Just random wandering here and there
With no system but when the sun struck
And the seedling’s veins were drawn
Toward the light, compelled to follow
Until the burden of old wood was too heavy
To traverse the sky with the sun anymore
And so now it freezes with the season
Becoming an eyesore without its green dress.

Yes, We Do!

Gilded words to make even the most troubled times
Seem like team sports in which we gather
Our mightiest grit and identity together
And line up our defenses, our sheer force of will
Because we can do this if we hold our line
Casting off the plagues of hunger, war, disease
All of which form in the small mind, not ours,
But WE can fend them off, if we work together,
Remember who we are, where we came from,
A vision of the Founding Fathers, thirteen for luck,
Ingenuity, vision, persistence, hope above all,
Pulling each other up by the bootstraps
We can, we will, we are, and we do. Yes, we do!

The Path of Life

In the valley, youth plays in a field of grass
Scarcely noticing that there is somewhere to go
Mimicking the songbirds as they perch on a twig,
Watching the ants as they drudge away the day.
The babe learns soon enough to stand
And so he does, seeing o’er the tops of windblown hay
To something that catches his eye in a blink.
And there, the first inclination to step out is born.
Perhaps seeming, at first, like stalking his prey:
A volley to the left, then a charge to the right,
As if this vision that provokes him so may get away,
He wanders, he wonders, until a clear vision erupts.
With age and agility, determination sets in
And he has a clear notion to get himself from here to there
And his Path of Life becomes defined, his heart resolute,
For the place of dreams, his goals, his desires is clear.
Now that the path is laid out, he can decorate it
With flowers of dance, with shrubs of exploration,
With rainbows of love and pets of joy,
Companions on this, his life, where he reigns free.
Finally, the path ascends upward into the mountain
Where doubt, pessimism, fear and advancing age
Creep into his mind and must be fought off, sword in hand.
Here he knows that the best, he has accomplished.
But sooner or later, the greatest challenge of his life
Will be upon him and he struggles up the mountainside
Through thickets of brush and the chill of snow,
For no one guides him here: at the end of the path is the Self.

Terrarium

Tiny topiary, a centerpiece to the still life
Held in biostasis inside a dome of glass
Where rain comes to the plants whose leaves
Lift up in silent prayer to the sun
As it cascades through windows and enclosures
Urging growth and green brilliance displayed
In the center of my dining table a vision
Of preservation, life and simplicity.

Before His Lamp of Oil

One must take care, it seems to me,
What book of poems to select
To bend one’s style and awaken the muse
That sleeps within
For the energy beckons to write
Relieving that need to stay awake
Through the night as the muse
Screeches at the top of her lungs
To gain my immediate attention.
But sometimes one has little to say
And wants another perspective
Another view, a breath of fresh air,
As it were, to let the light in
From beneath the window shade
And then one must read with feeling
The words struggled over by another poet
In the wee hours before his lamp of oil.

Barnes & Nobles

Books, all row after row, standing at attention
Tall, short, alphabetized by author
Some have gotten tired and take on a lean
While the rest whisper warnings to the others
Not to do likewise or it will go bad for them.
Colors of every kind smatter the wall inside each case
Six shelves high, with only the topmost books gathering dust
From a distance each row looks like a jagged-toothed smile
And all we can say about them is that they’re books,
Rather than cookbooks or etiquette, philosophy or medicine.
But they make fine wallpaper by which to stimulate
The minds and imaginations of those who sit and watch
Wondering what reader might notice which book
And what it would take to take it home.

The Hint

Just the hint of dawn and sunrise
Gives hope to the spirit that resides
Within the breast, the mind related
To all the Universe in its fine scope.
Fire at the tip of the tongue spreads
The words that lift us out of the belated
Moment where sudden impulse of hope
Gives rise to each new day. We jump out of our beds
And exercise our rights to see the world
As it might be with ancient symbols unfurled
For all to know and understand at last
So that we can hold hands and stand
Shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm.
We no longer pay for the sins of the past
But grant freedom to all in every land
Rejoicing in a new time when none come to harm.